


of Sycamore Nights and Wine-Red Blood (In this Place of Horrors, Love)

by dark_and_spooky (JamieisClassic)



Series: (dark and) Spook'o'Ween 2020 [2]
Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Alternate Universe - American Civil War, Blood Drinking, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Double Penetration, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Parent/Child Incest, Trans Male Character, Vampire Sex, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-10
Updated: 2020-10-10
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:20:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26851345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JamieisClassic/pseuds/dark_and_spooky
Summary: Anduin goes south to identify his father's body after the Battle of Vicksburg, but does not find him amongst the dead. That night, his father comes to him, but he is changed... and hungry.
Relationships: Anduin Wrynn/Varian Wrynn, Anduin Wrynn/Varian Wrynn/Arthas Menethil
Series: (dark and) Spook'o'Ween 2020 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1949491
Comments: 2
Kudos: 19





	of Sycamore Nights and Wine-Red Blood (In this Place of Horrors, Love)

**Author's Note:**

> I've been messing around with this idea for a while and finally decided to finish it up just in time for spook'o'ween! I'm sure it feels like a strangely specific AU to tag but I didn't know how else to do it lmao. Hope you enjoy the shenanigans, and me taking massive liberties with vampirism (as always)

Somehow the heat was more oppressive here than it grew back home even at the height of summer, despite it only being May. Memphis had been a simple place, still recovering from the battles fought there, but there was life in its streets and its music that told of pain and healing. The boat south to Vicksburg was sullen, several widows he could see in their dark dresses and black veils, likely travelling under the same pretense as he was: to identify and collect the remains of their fallen loved ones. 

His father had been killed in a decisive battle, helping secure a victory for the Union in the war itself, but the knowledge that his life had served such noble purpose did nothing to soothe the ache in Anduin’s chest, nor did it make the muggy heat of the Mississippi any more bearable. The black clothes he’d dressed in made matters worse as the passing-noon sun sat high and glaring in the sky, and Anduin was grateful for the light colour of his hair that kept some of the heat off, but he knew his skin would burn if he stayed too long without shade. 

As if on cue, a middle-aged woman approached him, in similar mourners’ dress, her olive skin and dark, curling hair reminding him of his father in a way that twinged his heart. She came to stand next to him at the portside rail of the boat, positioning a parasol she carried to cast some shade across his fair skin. 

“Thank you,” he said, with a timid smile. It had been a long time since he’d been shown such simple kindness, and distracted by his grief he found himself unsure how to show gratitude.

“Shade is plentiful if one stands at the right angle, it is no trouble,” she replied with a smile, and Anduin found himself comforted. “For all they say my boy is a hero, they sure do nothing to bring them home after they lose their use, no?”

Anduin gave a bitter laugh, “The army cares not for the bodies of the dead, only the bodies of the living. I won’t deny the necessity of this conflict though, for all I wish it could have been brought about more peacefully.”

“A brother?” the woman guessed, after a few moments passed in silence.

He shook his head. “My father, actually, he was a sergeant.”

The woman quieted, seeming conflicted. “And they… did not send home the remains of such an esteemed man?”

Anduin knew what she was not asking, what she assumed based on the difference between his own hair colour and hers, and wasn’t sure whether it was the appropriate time to explain. “They couldn’t identify his body. I was asked to come to identify him from those they could not put a name to,” he said instead.

The woman hummed and Anduin looked out over the water, letting the statement hang. “Do you take after your mother greatly?” she asked, and Anduin was grateful she understood.

“I am told I am a spitting image of her. When I was a child my father would occasionally slip up and call me by her name when he was distracted,” Anduin explained, “She passed in a riding accident when I was an infant.”

“My son, too, looked much like my late husband. I missed him every day I saw him in my son’s features, but too felt like I hadn’t lost him quite so much as I could have.” The woman smiled at him, then turned to look over her shoulder as a bell was rung to signal they were close to port. “It would appear we near our destination. Good luck with finding your father.”

“Thank you, and thank you for providing me reprieve from the sun.” Anduin smiled and offered a small bow. “My condolences on the loss of your son and your husband.” 

With a final smile, he walked to the other side of the ship where they’d pulled the gangplank down to be traversed across, and quickly made his exit. For all he was grateful to the woman for her company and conversation, he suddenly felt a restlessness take him and he needed to begin his search. 

And a search it was, for upon being directed to the morgue where the unidentified bodies were laid out in rows and showing his identification papers that allowed him inside to identify the body of Sgt. Varian Wrynn, he proceeded to spend hours looking through faces (and when those were absent, bodies) that did not belong to his father. It was late into the evening by the time he had done two sweeps, the first because that is what he’d come to do and the second because the soldiers seemed panicked at the thought Varian may not be present and asked him to check again, and he was so utterly exhausted from the day’s events and his grief that when the Captain asked him to check the faceless bodies again he snapped and told the man to check for himself.

He retreated to a nearby inn that was serving most of the mourners who had come to identify and/or lay to rest those fallen in the battle. Without trouble, he secured himself a room for a couple of nights and a meal for the evening which he all but scarfed down at the bar before going up to his room to collapse. Despite the heat which still permeated everything, he found himself so worn out that sleep came to him easily.

It was dark when he woke, the buzzing of insects and the susurrus of the river permeating his senses almost as heavily as the heat that still hung in the air despite the sun’s absence. However, despite the fullness of the night, so dark even the moon hid herself from shining in through the open window, Anduin sensed distinctly that he was not alone. He whipped his head around, eyes wider than dinner plates as he tried to see in the pitch black of the room, but for all his efforts he saw nothing and straining his ears heard nothing either. 

Well, until a flat chuckle reached him from the corner of his room, right next to the window, and he spun in place to face the sound. He still saw nothing, the light too little to even adjust his sight to, but he could sense a presence there, and not one that felt all too unfamiliar. “Who’s there?” he whispered.

“Take a guess,” said a familiar voice, but one he had not heard for some time and thought never to hear again.

“Uncle Arthas?” Anduin knew the man had died in the war; they’d heard reports of his death back in Boston a few months ago, a decisive victory as it was for the Union.

That same flat laugh, “Good to know my nephew still recognizes the sound of my voice even after all the time and… other things between us.”

Anduin scowled, “You mean your refusal to side with the right people?”

“No, Anduin,” he said, stepping forward, and Anduin heard a scratching sound before suddenly the room was filled by the barest flare of light from a match. In the quickly fading halo of light the match cast he saw his uncle, much the same as he’d seen him last but with a strange beauty, and equally strange timelessness to him. Just as the light gave its dying flare the man smiled, and where once he’d had human canines they now grew long and sharp like that of a beast’s. Then, darkness. 

A hand on his knee made him jump, not having heard Arthas come closer. “There are things that divide us now greater than politics,” Arthas murmured against his neck, and Anduin wanted to argue that it wasn’t  _ politics _ but human rights, but that wasn’t the point. The point was that Arthas had the beauty and danger of a predator and Anduin felt increasingly like prey the farther up his thigh the man’s hand wandered.

He caught his wrist and Arthas did not push against his grip, drawing away from his neck as well. For all it felt nice to be close, even in a way that was highly inappropriate given their relationship, he was not the man Anduin wanted touching him this way — not that that man was around, or an appropriate match for that matter, but until he had finished mourning it didn’t feel right to take another into the places in his body he had so carefully reserved for his father. A lump formed in his throat at the reminder of his loss, but he didn’t let it consume him. 

“What are you, Arthas? What’s going on?” he asked and was hushed by the barest brush of lips against his own.  _ What is happening?  _ he wondered to himself, never having been inclined to assume this form of affection from his uncle in the past.

“Death changes things, Anduin, many things. Come with me, I’ll explain everything,” Arthas said, drawing him from the bed and helping him into his outer shirt and shoes in the darkness, before leading him to the window.

“He’ll catch you, just let yourself fall straight down,” Arthas instructed, and without giving him time to respond all but tossed Anduin out the window. 

Doing as instructed, Anduin held himself still and hoped to God whomever this mysterious ‘he’ was would indeed catch him. Thankfully, he found himself snatched from the air and pillowed against a muscled chest. A moment later he heard a soft sound as Arthas landed next to them, but he was too preoccupied with breathing in the scent of the man who held him to really pay it any mind. He smelled like summer and beer and leather and spices and the forest, but most importantly he smelled like home. Without a doubt, he knew this was his father.

Throwing his arms around the man’s neck and burying his face in his shoulder, Anduin began to sob. “I thought you were gone,” he whimpered, tears clogging his voice and making it thick. 

“I’m sorry, Anduin, I’m so sorry.” His voice was rougher than it used to be, but the deep timbre resonated through Anduin’s smaller frame and warmed him like a blanket on a chill evening. “I didn’t mean to leave you. I’m glad you came to identify me yourself, otherwise this all would have been so much more complicated.”

“What happened? Did…” A sudden thought struck Anduin, so terrible he almost felt sick, “Did you desert, father? Did you betray-”

“No,” Varian interrupted, quiet but firm, “I died.”

Anduin felt like his ears were ringing. That couldn’t be right, he was right here, he was holding him in his arms, he was solid and real and…

“Perhaps that would be a conversation better had elsewhere, Varian,” Arthas grumbled from behind him. 

“Yes, you’re right. I’m sorry,” Varian replied with a nod.

“I know how you can make it up to me if you’re interested,” Arthas teased, and though his reply was even, Anduin felt his father tense.

“Oh? And how is that?”

“Let me carry our little prize for a while, it would be nice to have something warm to hold onto.”

“No,” Varian snapped, grip tightening around Anduin.

Arthas just laughed, “Fine, fine. Keep the pretty thing all to yourself, for now. You’ll share with me eventually.” 

They made their way out of what little town there was and through a broken field until they reached what looked to be an old plantation, fields abandoned and home in relative disrepair. Varian held onto Anduin the whole time and while perhaps were circumstances different he would have objected to being treated like a tired child, as it was he was clinging to him and grateful for not being asked to cede his hold on the man’s neck just yet. He finally had him back, and he didn’t want to let him go just yet. 

Despite the disrepair and all it had stood to represent when it was occupied, the house was beautiful, and though mildewed and weather-aged, the furniture inside was still comfortable to sit on once they made it inside. Or rather, it would have been had Anduin gotten to sit on it, which he didn’t, still held in Varian’s arms as he was. Arthas had evaded his questions as they’d walked, citing a need for privacy, and once they were inside opened a bottle of wine to pour into a large goblet and hand to Anduin. 

He accepted with thanks, before realizing neither of the men who’d brought him here were drinking as well and paused. “Why are you not drinking it?”

“We don’t drink wine any longer. We don’t really drink or eat much of anything any longer,” Varian explained.

“Well, we drink one thing, but that might be a detail best left until after-” Arthas started, but Anduin interrupted him.

“No, tell me now.”

Varian and Arthas exchanged a glance.

“We drink blood, Anduin. Human blood,” Arthas stated with an edge to his voice that showed how little he liked being forced to reveal that information. 

“Oh…” Anduin’s mind raced to come up with a more adequate response, something that would show the shock and horror he was evidently expected to feel, but all that came to him was the realization that that was probably why Arthas had all but kissed his neck earlier. “Is that why you were so close to my jugular before?”

Arthas laughed that same flat laugh as before and shook his head, “Of course your kid doesn’t even have a reaction beyond curiosity, Varian. And yes, Anduin. That and the fact that you’re very beautiful.”

“I call you uncle, though. You call me nephew. I thought…”

“You call  _ him, _ ” he motioned to Varian, “father, and yet you’ve clung to him like a mournful wife this entire time. You’re a smart man, Anduin, I’m sure you can figure out that the nature of what we feel changes sometimes, especially in death.”

Anduin blushed, feeling caught, but where he expected Varian to push him away with disgust, the man simply continued to hold him to his chest. With a sigh, Anduin squinted at Arthas, “Does that mean you’re dead? That both of you are dead?”

“Yes, we both died in battle,” Varian explained, “I was gravely wounded, and had dragged myself away from the fight to the woods at its edge. Arthas found me there, barely alive, and made me like himself to save me. We’ve been squatting here since.”

“And you need blood to continue to… well not live but you know what I mean,” Anduin asked, drawing back enough to look at his father.

He realized, looking at him properly now in the lamplight Arthas had lit likely for Anduin alone’s comfort, that he looked younger than he had when he’d left — the lines around his eyes had smoothed and his skin was less soft around the jowls. Despite the cosmetic changes, though, his eyes were older than they had ever looked before, and Anduin suddenly wanted nothing more than to comfort him with a kiss. 

“Yes, it is what sustains us. We can go for a time without it, but the more we have both in frequency and quantity the more human-like we seem, and the stronger our bodies are. Going too long without, we grow weak, easily breakable, and not just our bodies but our minds as well,” Arthas answered him, “Quite like savage beasts, starved vampires.”

It was fascinating to Anduin as a concept, something dead that sustained itself of the lifeblood of the very thing it had been in life, but he shook off his curiosity when he realized that he was himself very much alive, with two men who he was not so sure would have his life in priority over their hunger if things went south. “How much is enough to sustain you? For a small time anyhow.”

“Not much, no more than a pair of donors could consistently provide. It isn’t a comfortable existence from what I understand, but it is possible. Most prefer to be more indulgent in their meal taking though,” Arthas replied, and gave him a lecherous once over that made Varian growl. 

Anduin swallowed. “Does it hurt? Me, or um… the donor I mean.”

Varian’s grip squeezed once more as Arthas stood, eyes focused on Anduin hotly. “No, in fact, it is rather pleasurable from what I have witnessed. We wouldn’t be good predators if our prey ran from us when we could just as easily have them beg us to feed on them.”

He would admit curiosity, he had always been a curious boy and even more so a curious adult, so now that something so new was placed in front of him he was tempted to jump into it headfirst. But, after so many years of being curious, he also knew when caution served him better. “And is it difficult to only take what you need? Difficult to keep yourself from bleeding a person dry?”

“That, my dear Anduin, depends entirely on the donor.” Arthas was closer now, and Varian placed Anduin on the couch to stand before him defensively, growling all the more fiercely at Arthas. Arthas considered Varian cooly, but continued speaking to Anduin, “It is like finishing only part of a meal when you’re hungry. If the other part is going to keep someone you care for alive it is not so difficult to stop yourself. But if the person who would starve is not one you have a mind to keep alive, the morals become a little more tricky, as does the self-control. If you’re asking whether I or your  _ father _ ,” he stressed the word, stretching it out far longer than he had to, “would ever hurt you, the answer is no.”

Despite his words, though, Varian’s posture did not change one iota and Anduin wondered what was going on. Everything he knew about the two men told him they were close, they had been the best of friends their whole lives nearly and he couldn’t see something like vampirism and death suddenly changing that dynamic, though he supposed he wouldn’t really know. 

“Varian, back off. If he’s willing, you know it’s my turn to eat first. You drained my last pull too much for me to get anything more than a sip before risking his death and I would like at least something before I go out hunting again tomorrow,” Arthas’s voice was calm but solid as steel. 

“No.” Varian shifted his feet into a fighting stance and Arthas ran his hands through his hair. 

“Fine,  _ fine! _ I know what the issue is and I know you don’t want to talk about it but I guess I’ll just do it for you like I’ve done everything for you since I changed you.” Arthas looked past Varian to Anduin. “Anduin, drinking is a highly sexual thing for most people and your fa- uh Varian is jealous about me being close to you in that way. Could you please inform him that you’ve wanted him to fuck you over the closest solid surface for the past few years and wouldn’t be interested in me that way unless he was involved anyway so we can get this whole thing settled and I can eat?”

Anduin gaped at him, but then Varian turned to look at him and he blushed, and denying it seemed utterly pointless. “Yeah, that’s pretty much how it’s been.”

“You… why didn’t you say-”

“What was I supposed to say? That I want my own damn father to fuck me?” Anduin found himself angry, unreasonable as it was. “What, was I supposed to waltz into your office naked and demand you have your way with me? Confess my lusts to the only man who keeps me safe from everyone outside our family?”

Varian’s mouth opened and closed soundlessly, clearly searching for something, anything, to say that would clarify or perhaps justify what he had been trying to ask. Evidently finding nothing, he hung his head and sighed, “You’re right, I’m sorry. But if you… if you had found a way, somehow, you would have learned that those feelings were not unreciprocated.”

His words were uncertain, and for a moment Anduin almost thought he was messing with him, but then Arthas took a step forward, mere feet now from Varian and the utter possessiveness in the growl he let out told Anduin everything he needed to know about the genuine nature of that confession. Anduin whimpered, he couldn’t help it, and both men’s gazes were suddenly locked on him.

“Sorry, that wasn’t… I mean I didn’t mean to make that noise,” Anduin muttered, words barely a whisper by the end and blush burning across his cheeks like a blaze lit in a dry forest. 

Before the embarrassment could really set in though, Varian was on him, mouth hot and rough as it crashed into his and the whimper he let out this time felt far more justified when it was answered with a loud growl. Varian’s hands were calloused from years wielding weapons and working in the military, and none of that roughness had faded with whatever process it was that had saved him from true death. Anduin moaned into his mouth as fingers dragged up his spine under his shirt, Varian having untucked it so rapidly he’d hardly noticed, and he drew away to leave a line of toothy kisses down Anduin’s jaw and onto his neck, but then Arthas was speaking and the moment shattered.

“Ah, ah, Varian,” Arthas reprimanded and Varian pulled back with a huff. “You get to fuck him first, I get to feed first. Fair is fair.”

Varian pulled back even farther, sitting up where he’d managed to seat himself between Anduin’s splayed legs on the couch and sighed again. “Well are you just going to stand there or will you help me undress him? Be careful with the binder, they’re hard to come by.”

He started removing Anduin’s clothes, and he decided to get up from the couch to aid the process and found himself quickly stripped by two very impatient sets of hands. Only once he was naked did he realize neither of the other two had undressed at all, and he suddenly found himself a little uncomfortable. “Are you not both a tad overdressed?”

“We’re simply eager to touch you,” Arthas said, but unbuttoned and removed his shirt either way.

Yet even that had Anduin squirming and not in a way he liked. He was already outmatched, already the toy to be played with here, he didn’t need the additional disadvantage of being the only one naked. “I’d really prefer if… if you were both at least mostly undressed as well, to even it out.”

Varian and Arthas both paused in their mutual advance toward him, exchanged a glance, then nodded to him and began to undress. It did not take them long, neither wearing as much clothing as he had been — perhaps something about death made the proprieties of the undershirt seem less significant — and when they both matched Anduin in nakedness he felt more comfortable. Well, if you didn’t account for the sudden  _ heat _ clawing through him at the sight of them both nude.

Before Anduin could even comment on how much he wanted them, Arthas was positioning the three of them such that Varian was sitting on the couch sideways, legs splayed and cock hard and protruding between them, Anduin was sitting over the top of his thighs and Arthas was kneeling behind him with one foot on the floor for balance. Arthas leaned forward to kiss his shoulder, hands tracing up his ribs to massage one breast, and Varian growled.

“It’ll help him balance if I’m touching him, Varian,” Arthas grumbled, “You’ll have to fuck up into him because there’s no way he can bounce on your cock if I’m drinking from him at the same time.” 

Anduin shuddered at the words. This was happening, this was actually happening, and he wasn’t sure if he was dreaming but honestly he didn’t care because Varian was tracing a hand up his inner thigh and running it over his lips teasingly and Lord, but he was about to have his cock in him and that was all he’d wanted for years. 

Arthas’s breath was cool against his heated skin as he kissed over his shoulder and up his neck, encouraging him to lean back against his chest. “That’s it, put your weight on me and I’ll keep you steady while Varian fucks you,” he whispered into his ear, nipping the cartilage. 

He took a firm grip around Anduin’s waist and continued to fondle his breast and nipple with the other hand, then just as Varian breached him with a finger, Arthas’s fangs broke the skin on his neck. It hurt, a sudden sharp pain deep into his flesh like a massive needle, but then almost immediately it filled him with a bone-deep sense of satisfaction, relaxation and heady, heady pleasure. Moaning, he felt himself clench down on Varian’s fingers and was grateful when the man swapped one for two. 

“You’re still untouched, right Anduin?” he asked, spreading his fingers wide as he pumped them in and out of Anduin, the slickness of his cunt making the movement sloppy and wet-sounding. He should have been embarrassed, perhaps, to hear just how wet he was for his father’s cock, but he was too consumed by the pleasure of it to care.

“Yes. Yes, I’ve never done anything before. Never touched myself, even,” he admitted, “I wanted to save myself for you.” 

Varian growled deep in his chest, taking his fingers away and spreading the slick clinging to them on his cock. “This might hurt at first, but it gets better. I’m so happy you waited, Anduin. I always wanted to be your first.” 

And wasn’t that just heavenly to hear. Arthas helped guide Anduin all the way up on his knees, as high as he could get, and then once Anduin felt the cool head of Varian’s cock slide over his cunt to his entrance he was guided back down onto him, slowly. It stung, the stretch, but the knowledge of just who was entering him, who was staking claim to the private, holy depths of his body which he had kept reserved just for his use, made all the pain insignificant. The blood draining from his neck into Arthas’s mouth made him shiver, heat wracking his body like a pleasurable fever, and as Varian raised his hips up into him all the way Anduin felt static and shaky from how good it all felt. Sure, his cunt stung from Varian’s girth, but when the man drew back then thrust in hard, none of that mattered in the least. 

Arthas continued to suck at his neck, moaning against his flesh as he fondled his breasts and plucked at his nipples, and Varian meanwhile started fucking him hard, each thrust stronger than the last and snarls of pleasure coming from his mouth that were more animal than man. Anduin was soaring, ecstatic and shaky from it all, and the mounting pleasure in his gut was so good but somehow he felt like it wasn’t enough. Abandoning his breasts, Arthas moved his hand between his legs and traced feather-light over Anduin’s lips before pressing down on something there that made Anduin jerk. He’d never felt anything like it before, the feeling of being touched there, and then his body was jerking and pulsing as the heat in him grew exponentially, a scream tearing itself from his lips without his consent. 

When he managed to wrest back control over his body from whatever pleasure had possessed it, he noticed that Varian and Arthas had both stopped, and were staring at him. He couldn’t really see Arthas’s expression, but Varian was watching him in awe, cock fully seated in him where he now rested against the man, no longer held up on his knees by Arthas. He also realized that Arthas was no longer sucking from his neck and that the wounds there seemed to be gone as there was no trickle of blood down his skin. 

“That’s the first time you’ve come,” Varian said, voice breathy and low.

“I… is that what happened? I’ve never felt like that before,” he admitted, feeling strangely awkward about not knowing how his body worked when both older men clearly did. 

“Yes, you just came. Feels good, huh?” Arthas replied, kissing up his neck to his ear, “Do you want to do it again?” 

“Is that possible?” he asked, pulling away enough to look at him despite not wanting to stop feeling his lips against his skin.

“For most people, yes. If you’ve never even come before it’s possible you won't be able to do so again, but sex should still feel good either way. If it ever stops feeling good you’ll tell us, right?” he asked, levelling him with that look he used to use when he thought Anduin wasn’t telling him the whole truth. 

“I promise I’ll tell you if it starts to hurt,” he confirmed, but Arthas frowned.

“Not just hurt, Anduin,” Arthas corrected, “If ever you stop feeling good, if ever you get bored or uncomfortable or you’re just not that into it, say something. We’ll stop, always, and if you’re ever with someone who doesn't stop for that you shouldn’t be letting him into your body.” 

“Okay, I promise. If it's ever less than pleasurable, I’ll tell you. But… I don’t think I want anyone other than you two, I don’t think I ever will,” he said quietly, leaning in to kiss his lips softly, ignoring the possessive growl that Varian let out, “You’ll get your turn, be patient.”

Varian made a wounded noise. “Anduin,” he whined, pouting, then sat up a little so that he was closer, “I’d like to feed on you now if that’s okay with you. Are you feeling dizzy at all? Lightheaded?” 

“No, I feel fine. More than fine, really. Um, if you want to feed on me I’d like that, but does that mean Arthas is going to fuck me?” he asked, not entirely sure how he felt about that idea. He wanted him, maybe even inside him, but some part of him still felt like his cunt and womb belonged to Varian and he didn’t want to share that.

“Only if you want, little dove,” Arthas replied, leaning in to kiss him softly, “Is it that you’re worn out or that you don’t want me inside your cunt?” 

Anduin fish-mouthed for a moment at his bluntness, then nodded. “The… second one. I like you but that is a part of me I reserved for Varian and I don’t know if I’m comfortable having you inside me yet.” 

“Of course, Anduin, I understand. Would you be amenable to me being inside you elsewhere?” he asked, smirking when Anduin looked confused, “You don’t know what I mean, do you? I’ll show you with a finger, but I’ll need you to relax, alright?”

Nodding, Anduin allowed his body to relax as Arthas brought his hand to where Varian and he were joined, swiping through the heavy amount of slick there before pulling his fingers backwards. For a moment, Anduin thought he was going to push inside his cunt, but then his fingers moved backwards still and spread his slick over his asshole, making Anduin tense.

“What are you doing?” he asked, voice tense and uncertain. 

“Just relax, Anduin, if you don’t like it or it hurts you even a little bit tell me. And if you don’t want me to touch you here at all just say the word and I’ll stop,” Arthas replied, “But, as for what I’m doing, I was going to put a finger up your ass and see how you liked it. There are plenty of people that enjoy it, and I have a feeling it’s a less sacred place for you mentally.” 

“Oh, um, okay. I’ll relax,” Anduin replied, not sure how it would feel anything other than gross, but relaxing into the touch as best he could anyway. 

As he relaxed, Arthas continued to massage his finger over that ring of muscles and he found that it felt, if not exactly good, then pleasant in a way he hadn’t expected. When his body was loose enough, Arthas pressed just the first digit of his finger inside and honestly Anduin only thought it felt strange, but then he slowly pumped the finger out and back in, angling it to push against the separation between where his finger was and where Varian was still inside him, and a shiver raced up Anduin’s spine. He hummed, pushing back on Arthas’s finger, and was rewarded with the whole thing sliding inside him slowly, bent to press against that wall of tissue. 

It felt nice, pleasurable, and Anduin couldn't help but chase it, pushing back on his finger and moving so that Varian’s cock rocked inside him as well. He lifted himself up an inch then dropped back down, moaning at the combination of Varian’s cock in his cunt and Arthas’s finger in his ass and when he squeezed on that single digit he wished there was more to it. 

“More, please,” he whimpered, looking at Arthas and only then seeing the shock in his eyes. 

“Yeah, okay, just uh… just give me a moment, I didn’t think you’d be this into it,” Arthas replied, drawing his finger out and stepping away for a moment, making Anduin whine. 

He fucked himself harder on Varian’s cock in his absence, feeling all at once empty and full, and when Arthas returned not long after with a small jar in one hand, he whined and leaned forward to expose his ass to him more easily. Varian chuckled and exchanged a glance with Arthas, before rolling his hips up into Anduin more firmly. 

“You’re beautiful, Anduin,” he murmured, watching him raptly. 

Anduin thought to reply but then Arthas was steadying the movement of his hips and spreading his cheeks with one hand so that he could spread something slick over his asshole and press inside with one finger. Needing no time to readjust, a second finger quickly joined the first, and Anduin squirmed with it. It was a strange feeling, but good, and it lit a fire blazing in his gut, despite the strangeness, that left him desperate for more. 

He pushed back into Arthas’s touch, bearing down on both men at once and moaning from it especially loudly when Arthas bent his fingers so his knuckles dug into his walls and set his spine on fire. 

“God above. Please, Arthas, I want more. Please?” he begged, panting and riding them all the while. 

“You want me to put my cock in? It’s a lot bigger and it might be a stretch but if you feel ready-”

“Yes! Please! I need it, please,” he interrupted, desperation dripping off his words. That heat and tension from before was growing all the more intense and he almost felt like he was going to come again just from this.

Arthas growled in his ear, withdrawing his fingers only to quickly replace them with something cool, hard and much larger. “Relax for me, Anduin, more than you did before,” Arthas instructed, pressing inside him slowly, “And if it starts to hurt even a little bit tell me and we’ll pause to let you adjust. The last thing I want to do is hurt you.” 

He made a vaguely affirmative sound, too busy concentrating on relaxing around the intrusion. Arthas had been right that it was bigger, and it took his conscious effort to open his body enough to let him inside. Once he learned how to do it though, once he’d gained control over those muscles, the rest was easy, and soon enough the head and first couple inches of Arthas’s cock were buried in his ass. It was a lot all at once, his body screaming at him for so many things, but when Arthas drew out a little bit and pushed back in deeper than he’d been before, movements slow but firm, Anduin couldn’t help but clench and tighten as he found himself on that edge again. 

With a hand between his shoulders, Arthas pushed him down to lean further over Varian and started a slow rhythm of working his cock all the way in, pushing in just a little more with each patient thrust. As he did so, Varian started rolling his hips up into Anduin as well, not able to properly thrust so instead grinding into that deep place inside him that made him feel like his lungs were being squeezed and legs were weaker than a newborn foal’s. Just from their mutual efforts, without ever touching that place Arthas had touched earlier, Anduin found his body tensing and jerking as he came again, this time not quite so intensely, though the pulsing seemed to go on forever as he was fucked through it.

As his body finally started to come down, Arthas seemed to be ramping up, hips thrusting a little faster and harder and hand gripping the back of the couch nearly tight enough to tear the fabric. Anduin whined, feeling oversensitive but enjoying it nonetheless, and couldn’t decide whether he wanted to push back into the thrusts or shy away from them. 

“You gonna feed or what, Varian?” Arthas grunted, fucking into Anduin with increased fervour, “Fuck, I’m not gonna last. You feel so good, Anduin.” 

Varian leaned up, cock still barely rocking into him, and pulled Anduin’s neck toward his mouth. “You still okay with this, An?” 

“Please,” Anduin whispered, knowing somehow that if he fed on him now it might just be enough to get him to come a third time. 

With one hand guiding Anduin down close enough to bite, Varian kissed along the column of his throat feather-soft before his fangs dug into his flesh, sharp at first then suddenly heady. Warmth flooded through him at the sensation and the two cocks in him suddenly felt like so much more again, the pleasure so much sharper and brighter than it was all on its own. As Arthas picked up his pace, and Varian sucked on his neck while rocking up into him, Anduin shuddered and simply let himself feel it all in its fullest, let himself concentrate on the flow of his blood into the waiting mouth of the man he’d loved for so many years and the new but intoxicating sensation of Arthas fucking him in hard, deep thrusts. It was good, it was so good, and as both Varian’s and Arthas’s paces began to falter, as their thrusts grew shaky and moans grew loud, he knew he needed just a little bit more and he could come again. 

“Arthas, please. Please touch me again, how you did before,” he begged, voice a breathy shade of his normal timbre, “God, please, I want to come again.” 

Arthas groaned, shifting his weight so that he could more fully support himself on the one arm he’d braced on the couch, and brought his free hand to Anduin’s front. His touch was firm and confident, and the added friction was enough to have Anduin rocketing toward another orgasm with a speed his mind could barely keep up with. The movements of his hand grew frantic as his thrusts shook and shuddered inside him, and Anduin felt something hot and wet fill his ass as Arthas’s whole body went tense and his voice cracked over a loud moan. His mind took a moment to catch up with the fact that he’d been filled with the man’s seed — and distantly he was curious how it was he could come at all considering he wasn’t exactly alive — but the reality of that knowledge coupled with Varian following him not moments later and pumping his seed into Anduin’s cunt had him shaking and trembling into a third orgasm. 

Ears ringing and body clenching and twitching in pleasure, Anduin let himself float for a time in the bliss of it all, and when sound and sense came back to him he realized both of his partners were doing the same. Varian still suckled lightly at his neck, but after a short time decided he’d taken enough and licked over the wound, closing it. Anduin relaxed, loose-limbed and exhausted, against Varian’s chest and found the coolness of his skin comforting and relieving in his current state rather than unpleasant, and as Arthas relaxed down against his back that coolness only brought him more relaxation. He drifted there, in that post-coital state, and before he’d quite realized it, he was asleep. 

**Author's Note:**

> If we're lucky there should be more spook'o'ween coming up (on both my pseuds), so stay tuned! As always, kudos and comments mean the world, y'all really fuel me ❤❤
> 
> Thanks for reading! Happy Halloween and a blessed Samhain to you 🎃👻🦇🧛🖤


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